Depression is hell and tis a *****.
I hear Lucifer himself whispering.
You, 'buddy', are a mole. You're a snitch.
I'm numb, angry, sad. So **** confusing.
I can't trust anyone. What, why, how, which?

I'm not sure just what am I writing..
You want poetry. Not my ranting..
I can't help myself. I feel helpless..
I'm not weak. Done that, been places.

Forgive me for wasting your time.
Venting, words are dozen a dime..
They don't always make sense.
Heck, nor do I.. No surprises.

I think, I oughta shut up now...
Made enough fool of myself..
Will share happy thoughts..
When, and if it all, I ain't so low..